Intermission | CIS Dominion of Teyr

[Safira Haran]

Wearing: xxx
[member=Nya] | [member=Calixte Diantha] | [member=Keira Priest] | [member=Galaar Fett] | [member=Gerwald Lechner]

Keen raven eyes slowly trailed between the two women sat either side of her. If this is what a party was to the rest of the Galaxy, Safira could get used to it. In fact, by the end of the night, she may have just found herself enjoying it. A brief smile came over her expression as Nya and Calixte introduced themselves to each other. 'It's almost surreal...' She spoke with a tone that suggested she was rather in awe. '...My two favourite women in the same place at the same time. I'm a lucky woman tonight.' A moment or two after Safira had finished the first drink, her sweet tone cheered her companions on as they took their own. 'To a night so worth remembering we endeavour to forget it.' Safira nodded her head, lifting her shot glass up with the toast despite their being no liquid left in it.

When she caught the lilting tone of her lover speaking in her native tongue, Safira could not help but smile. The accent was way off, and she was entirely butchering the words themselves, but the ebony haired woman found it adorable. So adorable it put a rather enamoured smile on her face for the next few minutes. Safira lent across the gap between Nya's chair and her own. A caramel finger reached out to stroke across the dip in Nya's alabaster cheek. Despite the thumping beat of the music overhead, the Mandalorian woman whispered her words. 'You know, I rather like it when you speak mando'a to me.' Not wishing to be rude to their guest, Safira only lingered briefly on the smoothness of Nya's skin. When she was finished, Safira let her hand drop to rest across her lovers bare shoulders.

She finally addressed Calixte after her comments. 'I suppose we better do some catching up then. And as for the lack of date... Isn't it rather fortunate that you ran into us? I can finally show you what I meant by that comment during the crusade.' A grin formed on her face as she spoke. The first time she and Calixte had met on the fiery battlefield in front of the ship, she had commented on how men had no idea where to take a woman for a good time. 'Perhaps, if Nya is agreeable, you can be our date for tonight.' Safira turned to the blonde bombshell by her side, lofting an ebony brow as she posed the question. 'What do you think, Ny'ika?' Before she could get a reply the waitress slapped down a heavy bottle of the stuff that had once filled their shot glasses. Safira furrowed her brows and glanced up and down the length of the bar, finally coming to rest on the rather large frame of a sandy blonde man.

Nya was quick enough on the introductions, so much so that Safira didn't feel the need to confirm anything. Instead she focused on finding the second shot that Nya had poured out for her. The rim of the glass was spared no mercy as she lifted it to her lips to drain the contents. 'At mhi.' Safira spoke in her mother tongue as the liquid settled in her stomach. Once the burning sensation had faded away she translated, for the benefit of her fair-skinned companion. 'To us.' With the glass safely back on the table Safi finally focused her attentions on their mystery benefactor. She didn't recognise him, from either her own memory or any stories that Isley had told her of Confederate members. When she spoke there was no doubt as to who she was addressing. 'So, what kind of man wonders into a party and buys three women a whole bottle of extremely expensive alcohol without even introducing himself?'

 

[Argis Volmir]

How did I get suckered into this? Argis thought as he stood at the bar because the last stool he’d tried to sit on had been crushed beneath his large frame. In his hands a massive mug of Juri Juice, the thick red liquid sweet as the Dashade took another long drag from the drink. The Confederacy seemed particularly fond of their social gatherings but Argis couldn’t stand being at them. He’d rather be in the forests of Dagobah with a nice cup of tea than out mingling with others. The music was far too loud for his tastes, and everything was too small to accommodate his size.

There was no one standing near the Dashade where he was located as the last person who had approached him had been one looking to sell him spice. That individual had soon after ran away with tears pouring down their cheeks after Argis had scolded them about their choice of career and how they could’ve been so much more than a pitiful spice peddler. So when another approached it caught him off-guard.

The woman was taller than many other women that populated the bar, but she didn’t smell human to the Dashade’s scent. The next aroma to smack Argis was the scent of liquor. She was drunk, and if he knew anything about drunks things could possibly get hostile with them quickly. Plus this was the first entertaining thing that had been offered. “Fine, I accept your challenge but no betting.” Nodding his head to a nearby table Argis escorted her over where he looked at the seat and scoffed where he instead had to lower himself to a knee on the floor and still towered over the table. Placing his massive elbow atop the pristine wooden surface, his hand large enough to encapsulate a head Argis waited.

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

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Location: Sabaac Table w/[member="Haastal Verd"], [member="Kiff Brayde"], [member="Kaden Farr"], and [member="Galaar Fett"]​

Wearing: XOXOXO​

Objective: Learn to Gamble [And Not Go Broke]​

Daisy jumped just a little bit at the sound of a slowly growing familiar voice. She had learned, not too long ago, that she wasn’t bat chit insane—but something about [member="Kaden Farr"] still left her a little off kilter. He was there and not there. If anything, he seemed to be present more now, than he had been as a ghost. Every time she looked over her shoulder during an outing he wasn’t far behind. Coincidence?

Maybe.

Kaden sat down beside her and she offered a small smile while her chin ducked down. Of course, he would have the answer. She didn’t have the heart to tell him that she didn’t know how to play sabacc at all, let alone, to know exactly what he meant by wild cards and game rules. She swallowed and nodded her golden head, causing it to glimmer in the light, almost painting a dainty picture. She might not have been as gussied up as some of the rest of the patrons—but she was still lovely in her own way. An acquired taste.

Her former Ghost smiled at her in a reassuring manner and she felt a little bit more relaxed with the light nudge. He was just like everyone else. Kaden was a guy. He’d just happened to have died at some point, haunted her, and come back. He was just like anyone else.

A man from the middle of the room suddenly spoke up, a red-skinned Zabrak [[member="Daxton Bane"]], and Daisy rose her hand to get his attention. “We are playing sabacc!”

Daisy caught [member="Haastal Verd"] giving her a once over and the young woman held her ground quietly. It was typical. Most of the men-folk she came across just assumed that she was what her name suggested. A flower. Pretty, but easily crushed. He too answered her question about the game and she nodded her head, flashing the table a winsome, if slightly shy smile. “Thank ya' both.”, she intoned, glad, that they hadn’t minded Kaden joining.

Part of her wanted to refuse his help…But this was new. It would be dumb to just throw down credits and not take support when it was offered. Kaden…He was different out of his beskar. Different, when he wasn’t only partially corporeal. She noticed new things. A scar. A movement. Things she should have seen before, only, she’d been too apprehensive of the Forcie Hocus Pocus to do so.

When [member="Galaar Fett"] sat down next to Haastal Daisy offered the man a three-fingered wave. He didn’t seem to want to interrupt things, but, she typically knew a Mandalorian when she saw one. There was no defining feature. Just, a feeling. It didn’t help that Haastal greeted him in Mandoa. That, despite the pronunciation, was a dead giveaway. But…Haastal really endeared himself to Daisy when he began to lay out the rules. All, the rules. She liked the way he spoke. Plain, easy, and with euphemisms that she could understand easily. Not everyone in the Southern Systems was like that. She was no stranger to hearing an accent as she had one of her own. Thicker than a bowl full of oatmeal, one might say.

Daisy turned her focus back to Kaden while she leaned slightly to show him the cards that [member="Kiff Brayde"] had dealt. Hopefully, the rest of the instructions could be relayed easily, and quickly, so that she could have a decent understanding. The game was already underway.

“What is the shift, Kaden?”

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The few opportunities to learn about what he lacked were the closest Alkor ever came to empathy. He watched her visible response and listened to the way she confirmed his suspicion. She went as far as to further indulge and he wondered absently if he had touched a sore spot. People disliked it when others pried into their secrets. He had learned that.

She asked him then, something few people ever asked. They knew he was a killer, and they were content to leave it at that. This woman wanted to know how long, and perhaps, how far gone he was. It was insight few people still had into his psyche.

He matched her gaze evenly, recalling the moment he had first taken life. Survival. Instinct. Terror. So many things he had long since curbed came back to the forefront of his mind, and the sinister beast he had come to know as the Dark Side of the Force whispered to him. You do remember, don't you?

Everyone remembers their first.

He finished the sip, placed down his glass, and folded his hands. She hadn't asked for specifics. He hadn't either. Would they leave it at that? Would he? Alkor very rarely found interest in other human beings outside of the battlefield. It was a rare opportunity. Dare he pass on it?

"Eight," he offered voluntarily. "He saw me stealing from the vendors. He was going to say something."

He stopped himself from saying more than that. It wasn't important. Instead, he asked something that he thought was. "You're afraid of something."

[member="Naedira Darcrath"]

 

[Galaar Fett]

Location: Parier (Sabacc table)
Tags: [member="Haastal Verd"] [member="Kiff Brayde"] [member="Daisy Americus"] [member="Kaden Farr"]
Wearing: Grey Suit
Post: 2

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Galaar couldn’t help but smile lightly at the man’s accent, giving him a curt nod in response. This one had lots of potential. He was obviously still learning about their ways, still new and green to how they did things, but he wouldn’t be an alor if he could not see the potential in those around him. It was obvious that he was a capable hunter in his own right, and he seemed interested enough, or yet, held to the lifebond close enough, to truly want to learn more about what the reslo’nare taught those that followed it. He would be quite alright.

He began to sip the drink lightly as the man began to explain the game to the girl on the end, who seemed quite peppy in her own right. Galaar had never had the chance to introduce himself to her when he sat down, and made a mental note to try and do so before the night ended. No reason to leave possible acquaintances.

As the cards were dealt, Galaar held his hand up in a stopping motion, shaking his head lightly before giving a soft response. “I’m alright, thank you. My credits have a different place they need to go than [member="Haastal Verd"]’s pockets.” With a smirk, he leaned forward against the table, watching the rest of the cards be dealt out to those that wanted to play.

His ear was caught by the younger man, though his eyes stayed forward, and the drink at his lips was sipped as if nothing was being said. Before he responded to the question, he nodded very softly toward the cards, his own eyes never looking toward Haastal. “Eyes forward beyora. Focus on your game.” The drink in his hand was brought back up to his lips, before slowly sipping it and letting the liquid burn his throat on the way down. Allowing a few more moments to pass before responding, he finally did, eyes focused on the perspective Mandalorian’s cards. “I do not pretend to know what your Alor thinks of. I have my own aliit to take care of at the moment. Though, I would not be surprised if he asked us to go out again in the coming days.” Reaching forward, he plucked one of the cards from the man’s hands, bending it in his fingers, while continuing to softly speak. “I may, or may not, respond. I have to think of my own aliit. Things are in motion at the moment I must be present for.”

 

[Juniper Weiss]

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Wearing: [xxx]​

Tags:​

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It had taken quite a bit of convincing to get Juniper to leave Soceras. She had a job in Dal’Bor, a good job, where she made good money, and she had never taken a vacation of any sort – ever – since she had started working there. She used minimum sick days, and was always on time, because she loves her job. But, things had happened. Some things that had made her way to avoid her work environment like the plague. It had affected her so much in the work place, that even her newest friend had realized something was amiss with her.

And so she had talked to him, and he had informed her that there was a rather luxurious cruise with her name on it if she wanted the escape. This lead to a whole day of Jun fretting over the pros and cons. What it would do, what it would mean if she actually ran​ from her problem, what would her boss think if she asked for time off – and then she had recalled a conversation when she had first met Kainan about him wanting to outright buy The Dive. So, that had more or less freed her up to take the leave, since the owner had given it to her.

But nothing had prepared her for actually stepping aboard the vessel. The overall glam of the set up nearly took her breath away. The Dive was nice, but this? She had never seen anything like this before in all of her days. Having an invitation had let her aboard easily, and being shown to her stay room had nearly caused her to back out in a panic in fear that she was intruding on someone else’s space. But it was for her, and her things were set inside – and new things were waiting for her as well.

For a long time, the mint haired woman had stood and stared at the new collection of things that had clearly been bought and tailored for her. Admittedly she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about it all – mostly due to the fact that the sizes were spot on. She wasn’t aware she had been paid that much attention to. But after a time of staring down the clothing and accomplishing nothing, Jun sighed defeatedly, took up a random number, and stepped aside so that she could get herself cleaned up and presentable.

Not an hour later had Juniper making her way through the people gathered about randomly and heading towards familiarity. She may not know this place what so ever, but she was very familiar with the scene of thumping base. That typically lead to some form of club, or bar, and she knew that if she was going to be comfortable in any given location? That would be it, and it didn’t take her long to find the Promenade, not with the chest rattling beat leading her along.

Jun stepped into the area and almost immediately her posture relaxed. For a moment she stood and looked about, just taking in the sight as well as the obvious differences between this place and The Dive. A half smirk then tugged up one corner of her mouth, and her feet carried her easily towards the bar. The temptation to step behind enemy lines and start making her own drinks was a hard one to ignore, but she quelled the urge by lifting a hand and offering a smile at the bartender, who nodded in acknowledgement. She then waited for her turn to order, and leaned dependently against the bar while she did so.

 

[Luca Donskoi]

[SIZE=11pt]Location[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]: Teyr (Dance Floor)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Attire[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]: Service Dress Uniform[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Armament[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]: KS-95 "Ace of Spade" Blaster Pistol (hidden beneath jacket), Lightsaber (hidden beneath jacket)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Tags[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | Anyone Else[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Post[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]: 4[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]As strange as it was, Alden preferred the slower, more natural way of healing, not that he had much of a choice otherwise. He’d been born with a very rare condition where he had an allergy to kolto - a key part of the bacta tank healing process. It was simply something he’d come to be accustomed to and because of it, he had been forced to miss a great deal of time actively serving in his career. Unfortunate, sure, but he didn’t allow his condition to deter or slow him down in the long run. He forced a smile as he pushed through the pain that how now begun to subside, releasing his clutch on his ribs as he did so. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“No liquor, huh? Can’t say I blame you; it can be quite the dangerous companion.”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] He released a hearty chuckled, acknowledging her statement. It hadn’t been too terribly long before he’d come to the Confederacy that he, too, had sworn off alcohol, but he’d doubled back on that decision once he’d joined up here. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He waved down the bartender as the two approached the bar. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“Two tall glasses of fat cream. One with ice.”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] The Twi’lek gave nothing more than a simple head nod in acknowledgement to his order.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Glancing over, he turned his focus back to Scherezade as she gave him her name.[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] “Alden,”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] would be his response.[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] “Nice to officially meet you.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A moment would pass before the Twi’lek returned with the two overly large glass in hand, giving them both to Alden before taking his credit chit from the counter to process the transaction. Turning, he extended the glass that had the ice to Scherezade. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“I believe this would be yours.”[/SIZE]

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

wearing: xxx

[member="Safira Varad"] | [member="Nya"] | [member="[/FONT]Calixte Diantha"]​

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Gerwald had honesty not sent the bottle in hopes of an invite. For some reason he was feeling generous and would rather be in a position to admire beauty without feeling like anything was attached to it. Of course he was perfectly fine with joining the women, especially since the blonde which was in the red dress, filling it out rather well, was telling him if he was paying he was drinking with them. There was no turning down that invitation especially since she was already pulling out a chair for him. Gerwald smiled as introductions were made, and all the women seemed to take their turn to thank him. Naturally the blonde had told Gerwald to introduce himself, so as he grabbed the bottle and began to fill whatever empty shot glasses were sitting on the tray, Gerwald obliged.

"I'm Gerwald... you can call me Ger if that's easier," he said as he set the bottle down.

Naturally Gerwald took the time to let his eyes admire the women that were around him. Most of the time it was an involuntary reaction, the first look was more than always an involuntary reaction. Gerwald could not make any excuses for the second look save for the fact that all of them were dressed in a way that he could not help but keep looking. This was his downfall. As much as Gerwald wanted to keep his life from getting complicated, the massive wolf enjoyed being around pretty women.

His eyes wandered over to the sable haired woman. Her question was curious. Was it uncommon for a man to buy women a bottle of alcohol without some kind of strings attached to it. He just shrugged. Parties like this were not common on Stewjon, at least among the caste of people Gerwald came from. Gifting alcohol and encouraging people to drink was a common thing and always for fun. Sure, Gerwald was certain others used the method to get a warm bed, but since Ger had been raised by his mother to be cautious about those things, he was a but naive and unwise to the ways of the galaxy he was in. He should have known better by now, but having latched onto another Lupine and investing the last year into learning the truth about his species kept him from interacting with others as much as he should have.

Tonight, because of Alwine, and because of his friend Naedira, Gerwald was going to change that. This was the first party he had arrived to on his own and being his idea.

"The kind who just wants to make sure said ladies are having fun." he said as he decided that he needed to catch up. "So you're at two shots each?" The question came before Gerwald downed two shots back to back and grinned. Picking up the third shot he knocked it back with practiced ease and set the glass back on the tray. "Better keep up ladies... I didn't come to this party to stay sober."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Dance Floor
Wearing: Dress
Tags: [member="Alden Akaran"] + Feel free to join

It was indeed strange. And if Alden had said anything about it, Scherezade would have offered to try to use the Force to heal some of his wounds. She wasn't a healer by any measure, but she could do some small stuff, or at least ease pain. It was easier to do it for others than it was on her own body for some strange reason, but she herself preferred hours off inside of a bacta tank with nothing but sleep and a breathing mask on her.

To the no liquor question, she simply nodded. He didn't need to know that she had spent months quite literally drunk every minute of the day aside for a few short stints that had made it all that much worse. But he was looking at her and seemed to be thankful that she'd saved him and stuff, so there was no reason to break that image. Especially not when he was one of those rares who actually spoke to her like she was a human being and not someone's object of mockery.

As he gave her her drink, she smiled, and clinked their glasses. "It is," she said, "thank you, Alden."

With that, she took a small sip from her glass. It needed another minute or so before the ice would take the good effect of actually cooling the liquid down. Glancing over at a table, Scherezade sighed. She felt him. She always felt him and knew where he was when they were on the same planet. As did he. But she had pro-... No, she had not. Not to him. But to herself. She forced her attention back to Alden.

"So what's your excuse?" Scherezade asked him with a little smile, "Why are you here alone? I thought the Confederate Navy crowd tended to hang out together in groups."

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

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Location: Sitting at a Table on Lido Deck with [member="Alkor Centaris"]​

Wearing: X x X x X​

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Naedira had a tendency, when available, to react honestly. She hid much of her personality when in the field and kept her fair share of secrets but her responses were genuine. Did she like what Centaris said? No, of course not. But was he wrong? Not at all. Of the many people within the Knights Obsidian the very last person that she ought to start lying to over something so small as an emotional frame of mind was her partner.

He had a way of holding her gaze while he considered his responses, keeping her eyes, while others might have looked away. Like she had. It painted the differences between them more clearly than any set of words could hope for. When the truth came…Again, Naedira broke contact. Not because it bothered her. It was because at the tender age of eight he had been forced to learn what had taken her years to accept. It wasn’t fair.

She wanted to apologize for the hardships that a youngling had been forced to endure. It died in her throat. It wasn’t fair. But, it had shaped him. Without all of that he had overcome he wouldn’t be here, sitting before her, playing a game over glasses of Corellian whiskey. It probably wouldn’t make sense to him regardless. Why should she apologize for something she hadn’t done and was incapable of changing?

“You had to eat.”

It was the only reply she could give. Logic. He had to eat. Had to live. If the vendor was going to suffer from a case of loose lips and report a child? It was extreme…Beyond extreme, and telling, bit it was what it was. Survival. He, was a survivor.

Naedira looked back toward her Knight companion when he mentioned that she was afraid of something. That was simple. She drew the glass up and took another drink before setting it down on the table. Her cheeks were just starting to feel a little flush, though, her mind was still clear. The effects of liquor usually started in her extremities first. Instead of responding right away, she brought her hands up, and like a puppeteer, used telekinesis to pull the liquid from the glass in a thinly spiraled stream.

“I was married once.”, she began softly, uttering a secret, that no one else in the Confederacy knew. Not even [member="Gerwald Lechner"]...And she tended to tell him far more than most. The liquid from her tumbler began to take shape. People. A male and a female. The medium was incapable of portraying expression but somehow, she managed it by making the two whiskey-figures dance. The woman ran away teasingly while the man gave chase. He caught her. She let him, and became enfolded, enveloped, until it was nothing more than a formless ball of liquid. “A long time ago. He was everything to me.”

The figures were abruptly pulled apart. The male was filtered back into the glass. The female…She was alone. She became small. Hunched in on herself while thin arms wrapped around her knees. Naedira stared down at the make-shift puppet and felt her heart ache. “To depend on someone else so heavily becomes natural, to most, and a sudden loss…”

“It’s devastation of a silent kind. It destroys you. From the inside out.”

Her hands came apart and the woman was torn apart. Little droplets of amber liquid that hovered, briefly, before they too were deposited back in the glass.

“I wasn't strong then. But, I am now. I won’t be destroyed again.”

Naedira let a tight smile cross her lips, ensuring, that the topic hadn’t actually caused her harm. There were a lot of dark memories that made her strong. Powerful—Simply because the emotion she wrought from them was so entirely soul bending that it gave her an edge. She’d come to the Force in a moment of trauma. After that, it had been natural. To use it was to breathe. “I suppose it’s my turn…”

“Your father, mother, or both left when you were very young. Either of their own will or by other means… They never came back.”

What a dark turn a little drinking game was suddenly taking. Thankfully, neither were all that oversensitive.

 

[Kaden Farr]

Location: Sabacc Tables
Wearing: xxx

w. [member="Daisy Americus"] | [member="Haastal Verd"] | [member="Kiff Brayde"] | [member="Galaar Fett"]​

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Something was different about Daisy. This was a first for Kaden as much as Daisy, because as many times as he tried to reach out to her over the course of his time in the Netherworld until now, Daisy had always been beskar clad. Her dress was not as fancy as some others, but Kaden didn't mind. His preferences had never been about the things credits could buy to enhance what a woman had to offer. The Mando'ad was as true to his culture as they came. Skill in battle was more important that the niceties of finer things. Perhaps that was why he had been attracted to Yasha at such a young age. Even as children they both had fought, and fought well. It was not until after they were married he learned of her disdain for the resol'nare, or the fact she cared nothing of being the example the Mandalorian people needed in a rather chaotic time. The cracks in the beskar lining his heart that had formed before his death no longer existed. Kaden was more than a stoic, he was unfeeling, and yet as he found himself smiling like a stupid boy at nudging Daisy, Kaden could not help but wonder if perhaps his heart was not as cold as he thought.

The others did not seem to mind him joining, and Kaden nodded as the cards were dealt. Listening to the rules, and the explanation which Hastaal gave, Kaden quickly refreshed himself with what he remembered about the game. He had not played since he came back, something Daisy did not need to know. His job was to help her learn the game, and hopefully that meant they could win a few hands. Kaden kept his eyes on the other men, wondering what it was they were whispering about. His time as a warrior and his time in the Netherworld made Kaden a cautious and attentive man. He wanted to know what was going on in his surroundings. Kaden was a survivor, which meant he needed to know when others were hiding something. Perhaps that was something he could teach Daisy as well.

"The shift," Kaden looked toward Daisy, pulled back to her and reality with her question. "Right so at some random point in the game the cards can shift, change value, chage suit... and the only way to keep a card safe is put it in the interference field. It will keep the card from shifting, but you have to put it face up so everyone can see it. I've been in games where it has happened twice, and it is rare, but could happen a third time depending on how long the game goes."

Kaden paused and looked down at Daisy's cards. A small grin tugged at his lips, a bluff?

"So to win the Sabacc pot, you have to get a Pure Sabacc that is 23 or a -23. The only way to beat that is if you get what they call an idiot's array if you draw the card known as the idiot, a 1 in any suit, and a 2 in any suit. It literally makes your hand 0 1 2. That's how you win the whole pot!"

His caught the gaze of the blonde as the other two seemed to be talking about some kind of work or something. Kaden wasn't exactly hearing their whispers.

"Make enough sense for now?"

Kaden hoped he had.

 

[Daxton Bane]

Location: Sabaac Table [member="Haastal Verd"], [member="Kiff Brayde"], [member="Kaden Farr"], [member="Daisy Americus"] and [member="Galaar Fett"]

At the invitation the Zabrak joined the table, his powerful frame seemed to coiled even when at rest. Most members of the Confederacy would know that Daxton was often seen associating with ranking military and scientists, always on the side observing almost never in command save on a few holos where he was leading insane charges into hostile eney forces.

He was reported a member of the inner council of the Red Ravens, one of the bigger private merchantile houses that shipped goods and services from the Core to anywhere on the Outer Rim. Many whispered he practiced dark magic, rituals too obscene for public company but many just dismiss it as racism against Zabrak’s horned slightly sinister appearance.

Three of the establishment’s most expensive liquor were delivered as courtesy by the grateful host as Daxton had already spent at this small fortune in his bar. “So glad to have some fun. What are the table stakes?” He said to the dealer as he made himself more comfortable.

 

[Kurenai Yumi]

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Location: Bar
Wearing: Black Tank Top, Navey Jeans
Objective: Arm tussle
Peps: [member="Argis Volmir"]

If Kurenai was coherent of a single thought right now she'd probably be surprised by the large mans placid nature and wiliness to go along with her proposal. Again, 'IF', right now the influenced women was just going with the flow, patting the giant blue guy on the side, a small smirk climbing across her face, "gooooood for you, it'll be fuuuun, come one lets goo". With a confident strut the aged women took up location opposite the behimoth, elbow again table, hands locking together, Kurenai's grip being quite firm. "You are a big guy, noice, kind of remind me of those Jeddy thing a ma bobs, you know, the ones that can't die, regenerate, grey purple, you, you know right". Her new opponent looked like one, but in a more humaniod form, and more colorful.

"So, on the count of three we start, table on ground pin for 3 seconds rule, winner take.... what evs, OI YOU BARTENDER COUNT US DOWN"!! Her voice rumbled loudly, the man tending to the drinks fumbling a little before regaining his composure, looking at the two with a exasperated expression. No doubt the man was confident this little bout would wind up breaking something in his establishment, only a matter of time, himself putting walking closer, looking around before raising his hand. "On three... 1... 2... 3"!!

In that instant Kurenai put force into her grip, but didn't go all out, she wanted to test the giant blue man thing, see how much oomph he had, if possible wait them out, of if she proved stronger simply overpower him. "You best not disappoint".

 

[Kathryn Foster]

Location: Observation Deck, moving to the Promenade
Attire: Top and bottom, boots, silver bracelet and a thin silver necklace. Hair worn in low ample ponytail with some strands framing her face.
Nearby tags: [member="Voph"], [member="Chikako Liona"], anyone else nearby in the Promenade

Being up here certainly brought some serenity to the luxury party cruise, soaring above Teyrs wonderful landscape in the sunset. With a final glance outside through the large windows, she straightened herself up from the railing and turned to walk down the stairs a level. She passed the blindfolded man and the young girl and gave them a polite nod along with a genuine and soft smile. She did not want to interupt their conversation and continued down the stairs, heading for The Promenade.

With easy to read signs written in galactic basic, it was easy to get your bearings aboard the ship and the closer she got the more loud became the bass from the primary club area located in the ships heart. She would definately admit that it was not often that she went out on a nightclub, more so when she was younger, but in later years her studies and former work had taken quite alot of time. Nowadays, she was more for private partys and bar hangs. She threw a quick glance around upon entering the area and then headed for the bar, picking a free bar stool in front of it and almost did not had to raise the hand before a bartender had her attention.

She offered the bartender a soft smile and glanced at a nearby drinks menue.

''Oh, what would we have... Hmm... A sonic servodriver, please.'' she said and looked on as the bartender begun making and stirring the sullustan gin-based drink. It definately looked like the barmen had a lot of experience and training behind them, as they stirred and shaked up the drinks quite quickly and with a professional finesse.

The bartender handed over the high ball drink in exchange for a couple of credits. She took a sip of it and yeah, they certainly did it good too.

 

[Luca Donskoi]

Location[SIZE=11pt]: Teyr (Dance Floor; table off to side)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Attire: Service Dress Uniform[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Armament: KS-95 "Ace of Spade" Blaster Pistol (hidden beneath jacket), Lightsaber (hidden beneath jacket)[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Tags: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | Anyone Else[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Post: 5[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Alden let out a small chuckle at the mention of the Navy crowd tending to stick together. He couldn’t deny the truth of that statement and it seemed to be true of any military member among any ruling authority in the galaxy. Something about the like-minded individuals getting on with each other just seemed natural. But in truth, Alden hadn’t exactly felt the same among the crowd of the Confederate Navy as he had once. Not since that life-defining moment between himself and the Exarch back on Geonosis. Something about playing the dual hatted role seemed to make him feel as though he both did, and didn’t, belong in either clique. Still though, he played into her comment toward him.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Is that what they say? We Navy types just stick together?” There wasn’t any kind of seriousness in his voice as he continued to try and carry forth a playful and charismatic tone. There really was not reason for anything but.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He shrugged. “Guess I should go find my crowd then.” He smiled and watched for her reaction to see how she would take the joke in response to that comment. “And should I really come up with an excuse to talk with you?”[/SIZE]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

He watched the dancing drink as she manipulated it, and ultimately quashed it back into the misshapen void of liquor intended to fill the emptiness inside her. He could understand that much. It was why he turned to alcohol, though the burn was all he had left. There was no mindless stupor for him, no fitless sleep where he could flee from the nightmares. Alkor envied that she found any semblance of peace at all.

She talked about being destroyed, but he wondered. In his experience, the world had been flawed from the very beginning. When his mother had explained love, she mentioned that it caused people to see the world differently, and sometimes to even disregard truth. Alkor had nothing else to go on than the musings of a drugged mother to a child, so he held his tongue.

There was no point in offending [member="Naedira Darcrath"] over something he had no proper opinion on. However, he did understand what she said about strength. Once, he knew a man named Zechar.

Zechar was a tribal man who had a wife and a child. The elders of their tribe murdered his family and exiled Zechar, leaving him to brood in quiet agony over his loss. When Alkor found him, he had sunken to a level of hostility and anger that opened new avenues of power- but the cost was evident.

Zechar said something to Alkor that the Jen'jidai would never forget, and he repeated those words now for the hardened woman.

"What is broken, cannot break."

He watched her steadily, because it was as true for her as it was for him. They were not strong because they had been broken. They were parts stripped bare to their atoms, bereft of bonds. They were alone, and they were broken, and because of it, could fall no further.

Her next words... another drink. "I never knew my father," he replied. "He left before I was born, and my name is all I have as proof that he was ever there at all. My mother," he took another drink and leaned on the table, swishing the whiskey about in one hand. "Was an addict. Spice, death sticks, stims- if she could get it, she would use it. It wasn't only me that I stole for."

 

[Kira Salis]

Location: Pomenade
Wearing this

Tags:Anyone
[SIZE=11pt]Kira strayed from all of her own personal thoughts on this little CIS gathering, If it wasn't for a anonymous invitation the exiled sorceress would be self absorbed in her studies of the mind. As of late she had become interested in the matter of manipulating the mind of others. Quite perturbed actually her invitation had been sent to her anonymously through the holonet with no trace of its author.On the bright side it could very well open up opportunities of it's own.[/SIZE]

How her secret individual found her was intriguing, Kira had remained quiet in her life. She did not want to be sought after. The exile thought she had been careful in keeping herself hidden from unsuspecting eyes. The last thing she wanted was to be dragged into a world of conflict, unless she could find cause herself. Kira was unsure the Confederacy could fulfill her lust of the darkest pieces of the force. The hole she felt inside her soul, she believed could only be filled by sorcery and Alchemy-she had her doubts she would find it here.

She moved through the crowds of people as a phantom circling through as though her course was predetermined, the force flowing through her as her senses wide awake and aware touching energy all around her surroundings. Searching for a marker of the one who invited here. Dismayed her senses came up empty, a droid holding a serving tray walked by her failing to offer her a beverage. It mattered not, she raised her right hand, pointing in the direction of the glass. She twisted her fingers, breaking the laws of gravity the glass landed between her fingers. The droid shook his head unsure if he should approach or not,Kira wryly smiled paying littles attention continued with her predetermined quest.

Kira abandoned the thought of going unnoticed, it was too late for that now. Her little incident Surely made its mark. Smirking to herself she knew that is was probably a bad idea drawing attention to herself since she didn't want unneeded attention in the first place. The damage is done, but what concerns her the most; is she could not feels who brought her here, Kira felt uneasy that she could not foresee who or why.Usually her senses were attuned, but something greater was blocking her, and that gave her cause to worry. Kira within herself masked her feelings although it was probably to late. She should have force cloaked herself, her reasoning was she fell into a moment of weakness, she did her best to rectify herself.She was after all the mysterious stranger.

 

[Nya]

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Wearing: xXx​

Tag: [member="Safira Varad"] | [member="Calixte Diantha"] | [member="Gerwald Lechner"]​

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With each shot poured and downed the half-Zeltron could feel the soft smirk on her lips growing. There weren't many things that she could do better than the sable skinned woman she'd been sharing an apartment with for the last few weeks - but she would be surprised if anyone else around the table was as well equipped as she when it came to drinking. Wrist rockets? She was the worst. Going shot for shot with hard alcohol? The blonde assumed she could put anyone at the table under it in no time. Though, as she watched the large stranger down his third, she wondered if sheer size might have to factor into her assumptions.

As fingers trailed along her cheek and Safira muttered softly about how she enjoyed Nya's terrible accent so long as she was speaking mando'a, Nya smiled brightly and slid a third shot in front of the vision in black beside her. "I confess that I don't know much over and above some drinking chants - but if you wanted to teach me some other fun phrases I wouldn't say no. Especially if you think we can make Isley blush?" She flashed a bright, toothy grin before she slid another shot to Cali as well.

Her own fingers wrapped around a shot she'd poured for herself, hefting it to cheers the ladies and then leveling her gaze on the wolf and downing the shot. A sharp, hissing breath between her teeth as she slammed the glass down on the hard wooden surface was the only indication the alcohol was anything more than water to her. Her free hand rose to slide through her hair, pushing it back from her face and causing it to flow across her shoulders and back.

Eyes bright with yet another shot turned back to Safira before finding Cali. That same tooth grin resurfaced as she offered a nod. "I don't see why not, Safi... Since we're missing our third anyways, Cali seems like the ideal choice to round us out." She gave a quick wink and started to pour another round of shots, sliding them to the other three around the table before downing her own without another word. She gave a sharp nod to the wolf before giving him her best tooth grin as well. "Well that puts you one behind, big guy. Bottoms up."

 

[Argis Volmir]

Through the slurred speech of the woman, Argis could still pick out the meaning in her words. What she meant as she spoke comparing the Dashade to a gen’dai. “Our people both share much in common.” Argis said the words but was sure they fell on deaf ears. The woman was three sheets to the wind and was rambling without a filter. It was entertaining in a way.

The one clear sentence from the Dark Jedi had been declaring the rules, it at least seemed she was able to think straight when it came to competition. When the countdown began Argis inhaled, and as the count ended he exhaled. Flexing his right calf to plant himself more firmly on the ground. The biceps on his arm rippled as he they tightened and he felt the pressure of Kurenai pushing against his hand. There was no sign of stress on Argis’ face as he stared across the table to Kurenai raising a brow.

“I don’t intend to dissapoint, but before I make a display you’re going to have to push a bit harder little one.” The taunt obvious, meant to toy with the woman across from him in her drunken state. The table on which their elbows rested fated to suffer an unfortunate end.

[member="Kurenai Yumi"]

 

[Kurenai Yumi]

She had not heard the mans response to her comparison of the Gen'dai, already fully focused on the arm match which had already begun, the mans comments before the countdown only further inducing the fire of competition within her belly. So far nothing was happening, her opponents arm not budging the slightest, that was good, but didn't mean much, the force behind her hand only being a small test to see how he reacted, and oh boy would this be fun.

With a coy smile still across her face Kurenai slowly started adding force behind her elbow, the visible muscles on her for arm beginning to tighten from the increase in pressure, but still she had yet to show signs of strain. She was unsure if the increase in strength would do much but not doubt the man would slowly become surprised by just how strong she was with each passing second, without the need to rely on any force tricks or other powers. This match would be her vampire superhuman strength and muscle against his, what ever the blue guys called himself, "come on, at least try and win, no fun if I do all the work".

[member="Argis Volmir"]